


I'm Home When You Hold Me

by rogueraccoon



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Background Javert/Jean Valjean, M/M, Minor Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:36:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueraccoon/pseuds/rogueraccoon
Summary: Based on an OTP prompt - "Your OTP is standing together at the back of a group picture. Person A is really short and has to jump just to be seen. Person B, who is much taller, picks them up so that they can be in the picture."Repost of an old work of mine.





	I'm Home When You Hold Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in May 2016! I only edited it a bit because I frankly have no energy to go through it all carefully so ignore all mistakes.

Enjolras had warm brown skin. There were freckles on his nose and cheeks. His curls were blond and eyes blue. And he was short. While for most people it wouldn't be s u c h a problem, since it was just a height and they couldn’t simply change it, right? But for Enjolras it was something more than just a height.

He had always been the shortest kid in school, the shortest member of the family. Because of his height he couldn't ride roller-coasters, had to keep all of his dishes at his eye level (that is far too low for his flatmates – Combeferre and Courfeyrac) and he had to wear flashy colours at the protests, so that his friends could easily find him. But there was one thing Enjolras hated the most – having photos taken. Always being the shortest person, he had to kneel in the front of group when they took pictures. Also taking selfies with his friends was rather hard, since everyone had to bend down at least a little bit.  
But Enjolras somehow managed to find ways to survive it - he always insisted on sitting in pictures, instead of standing. He sat near Joly and Jehan, who were only a little bit taller than him, he wore high-heeled shoes. Sometimes he didn't go to the parties, just in order to escape from uncomfortable comments (“Enjolras, can you stand in front of us?”, “Enjolras! Stand on your tiptoes, please!”)

But then came a day (and a party as well) Enjolras couldn't avoid- Cosette and Marius' wedding.

Not that he didn't want to go. He loved dearly his friends. Cosette was like his sister. He could always count on her and he wanted her to be happy. And Marius was one of his closest friends, every sincee they met thanks to Courfeyrac.

And so the 16th of February came. Although it was snowing, the day was rather bright and when Cosette showed up at the mairie, rays of sun illuminated her face and hair. Tiny snowflakes fell on her ivory dress and she looked like a princess.

She greeted the crowd of her friends and when she saw Enjolras, she immediately hugged him and kissed his cheek (Enjolras, of course, noticed that she had to bend down a little bit).

“You're beautiful” he said and when he saw girl bite her lip nervously, he added “Excited?”

Cosette looked at him and smiled. “Yes! I am just a little bit stressed. I am afraid that I may trip over.” she laughed quietly and raised bottom of her dress showing high-heeled shoes.

“Everything's gonna be perfect, 'Sette.” Enjolras said and squeezed her hand.

She looked at him with a grin for the last time and let Eponine hug her.

When they went inside, Marius had already been waiting for them. He was obviously nervous, pacing back and forth and when he looked up and saw his future bride, he almost fainted. Courfeyrac, who was standing beside him, only laughed and ruffled Marius' curly hair.

“Hey, hey, Pontmercy. Don't die.” said he “We want a wedding not a funeral!”

The ceremony itself was rather short and Enjolras felt guilty to admit that he had spent it thinking how tall Cosette family was. Her adoptive father was almost 2 metres tall. His partner – retired police officer - was only a little bit shorter. Even Cosette's biological mother was taller than him! And then there was he – an 1 metre and 57 centimetres tall activist.

Later the wedding reception moved to the Café Musain, small bistro run by Cosette's father and since the newly-weds didn't invite many guests, all of them could celebrate in one room (which normally was used as Les Amis' meeting room).

Enjolras sat down near Combeferre (of course he didn't let the fact that his feet were dangling from his chair go unnoticed). But one hour had passed and Enjolras couldn't complain – he was having a good time. The atmosphere was magical, food delicious and most important – the bride and groom were happy.  
And it was then that someone started taking photos. Enjolras pouted and started staring at his juice as the flash blinded him and he heard laugh and those hated words: “Ha! Look! I tried to take photo of Combeferre and Enjolras but ‘Jolras disappeared!”

Yes, because I am a magician for God's sake, he thought. He was furious. Suddenly someone poked his arm. He turned only to see Joly looking at him with a concerned look on their face.

''You okay, 'Jolras? You look quite pale.. '' They asked and young history student felt two fingers pressing to his wrist. Enjolras sighed.

''Joly, I am fine. You don't have to check my pulse'' he reassured them. ''I am just a little bit tired''

''Are you worried because of your height?'' asked Joly.

The blond looked at his friend terrified.

''You know about this?'' he asked lowering his voice ''But how?''

Joly shook their head and smiled broadly.

''You don't really keep it only to yourself, my dear. Last week you shouted at Bahorel when he tried to help you and give you something from the top shelf.''

''I…'' he groaned. 'Yes, I have a problem with my height. I am even shorter than Gavroche and he is 6 years younger than me. I have a stool in my flat so that I can brush my teeth or see myself in a mirror!'' Enjolras sighed loudly and puffed out his cheeks a little bit.

Joly patted him on the shoulder. ‘’Poor Enjolras’’ they thought ‘’And soon the photographer will arrive and take the photos of everyone.”

But... suddenly Joly got an idea. An idea which would solve two problems. They smiled - it was like killing two birds with one stone… 

****

The photographer came to the Musain less than 20 minutes later. At first he took photos of newly-weds and their closest family. But then Monsieur Valjean insisted that he wanted a photo of all the guests.

While at first it didn’t seem to be a hard task. There were less than 30 people at the wedding, so all of them could just stand in front of the Musain, on the wide boulevard. After 15 minutes of placing all guests, setting camera, again placing guests (Bossuet stumbled and fell on Bahorel who fell on Marius and the whole arrangement had to be redone), Enjolras tried to squeeze through the people in order to stand at the front of group. But he couldn't. No one seemed to notice him, even if he tried shouting at them and poked their backs. He huffed. So he wouldn’t be in the photos! Enjolras folded his arms on his chest. Not that he was sulking about it! Or maybe he was... Enjolras' pout was bigger and bigger with every passing second until he suddenly felt arms around his middle. He was being lifted. He looked down at the hands on his waist – they were much bigger than his, callused and there was paint on the skin around nails. Enjolras knew exactly whose hands they were and if his heart was beating frantically, it wasn't because of the stress caused by the photos. Then he heard the sound of shutter and soon everyone started to move and talk. Enjolras turned around and looked at Grantaire who smiling at him sheepishly.

''I am sorry, I just wanted to help.'' R said and ran his fingers through his dark hair.

Enjolras shook his head and smiled. ''Thank you, Grantaire.'' He said. ''I appreciate it.''

''It was Joly's idea, you know, to pick you up. You should thank them, not me.'' The man looked at Enjolras.

And indeed, when Joly noticed Enjolras trying to get through the people, they told R to help him. That was their amazing plan – to help Enjolras and to make him and R finally admit that they were in love with each other. Now they grinned at their friends. The plan Les Amis created almost 2 years ago was finally working. They were aware of the fact that it sounded like a bad romcom but they all couldn’t help it that in their opinion Enjolras and Grantaire had to finally admit that they had crushes on each other. 

Enjolras put his hand on Grantaire's shoulder and smiled. Then, before R could react, he went back to the Musain.

Dark haired man made a startled sound as his eyes followed Enjolras opening the door and letting the photographer go first. R turned around and saw Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta smiling at him meaningfully.

''I hate you, guys.''

****

Two weeks passed and the March has started. But in the spite of the passing time, Enjolras didn't forget about what had happened at the wedding. It wasn't even a big thing. Grantaire didn't save his life nor fight 100 hamster sized wild dogs for him. But it was something more. It was nice and his friend (because they were friends, weren't they?) had never done something like this for him.

''I am overthinking the whole situation,'' Enjolras said to himself as he flipped the page in his textbook. ''I should work not think. Work, work, work.''

But more he didn't think about Grantaire, less he was working. He put his head on a cold desk. His stomach was growling, his essay wasn’t finished and the librarian had already told him twice that it was late and that soon he would have to close the library.

Enjolras got up and packed his books and notes. He just needed one more book and he could finally go home and eat frozen pizza.

He went to the bookcase and took the note with number of the right shelf. He looked up and… shit.. It was too high. Enjolras put his bag on the ground and climbed on it praying silently. But still - he was too short even while standing on the lower shelf. He sighed hopelessly at the book that remained out of his reach. 

''Want some help, boss?''

Enjolras jumped surprised and when he turned to see the person behind him, he was sure that gods must have hated him. His crush was standing near him, in library, among the shelves with books about history.

''What are you doing here, R?''

Grantaire smiled and showed Enjolras book he was holding.

''Renaissance. I have to prepare a project.''

Enjolras nodded in lieu of answer and tried to somehow stop the blushing.

''And you? Need any help with this book?'' Grantaire continued.

''Umm yes. It's pretty high...'' Said Enjolras bashfully ''You are like my knight in shining armour. You helped me at the wedding and now this again.''

''Ah, that's not a problem. You know that I will always help you. We are friends.''

''Are we?'' Enjolras finally asked the question which was bugging him.

R looked at him shocked. ''Of course we are. Unless you don't want to be?''

''I want to.'' the student smiled. ''I really do.''

''Good, that's good… We better go. They're closing soon. Come on, I will walk you home.''

When they left, it was already dark. The stars were shining brightly, but even if it was late, Paris didn't sleep. There were lots of people on the streets, either wandering around, or looking for something. Many of them were drunk, heading to the bars. Lost tourists were pulling their suitcases. And then there was Enjolras and Grantaire, both of them walking towards the Latin Quarter, safe distance between them.

''Are you writing an essay or something? '' Asked R suddenly

''What?''

''You were writing something in the library. So I guess you are writing an essay or your life is just so boring that you read about…'' Grantaire looked at books in Enjolras' bag. ''May 1968.”

''It's for an essay. But it doesn't mean that I am not interested in this topic. And who are you to judge me, mister I-read-Wikipedia-for-fun!'' The blond smiled at his friend.

R replied with a shy smile. Enjolras hid his hands in the pockets of his coat. He wished he knew how to talk to the artist. Should he ask him about his project? Or about his dance lessons?

''I love the sky.. There are just so many stars… '' He finally said.

Grantaire looked at him surprised.

''Yes, they are.. That's one of the things I love about this city.''

''What are the other things?''

''I don't know!'' R laughed. ''Maybe people..? Yes. I love people here. Tourists, students, everyone. They make this city live.''

''I've noticed that you like drawing people.''

''Well… yes, I do. I like drawing people. Even those I don't know.. '' Grantaire smiled more to himself than to Enjolras. ''Drawing them helps me to understand the human nature.. Okay, I'll stop talking. I guess you are not interested in that.''

Enjolras shook his head. ''I am interested. Please, continue.''

''So.. you know.. when I draw someone I don't even know I like to imagine who they are. The things they do, they tell me more about them.''

''Why didn't you go to the art school? You could have studied art! You still can!''

''I don't know.. I guess I am not that talented… And I would get bored knowing me.''

''Of course you are talented, R!'' Opposed Enjolras ''You're the greatest artist I’ve ever met! I just love your drawings. They are full of life and they are so realistic. And your paintings are the best! Although they are dark and sad, there is something in the-''

Enjolras didn't finish the sentence because he felt lips pressing to his. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Grantaire's neck. Artist's lips were chapped and his stubble rough. Enjolras caressed his cheek and didn't stop kissing even when he couldn't breathe. Finally, Grantaire moved away and looked at the blond.

''I shouldn't have...'' R mumbled. ''I am sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you.''

Enjolras exhaled deeply and took Grantaire's hands in his.

''And what if I wanted it? What if I am a little bit in love with you..? Or maybe not a little bit. I’ve been mooning over you since the wedding. I didn't even finish my essay because I couldn't stop thinking about you, Grantaire! God, I’m bad at all those… human interactions.''

And then Enjolras was kissing him again. His lips were trembling. What if Grantaire didn't want it? He was selfish - he thought - but on the other hand it was R who started it and then kissed him back. Enjolras backed out unwillingly.

''What about you..?'' he asked quietly.

''Geez, Enjolras! I am in love with you since I spilled my coffee on your papers!''

''But.. that was when we met!''

''Yes, you idiot!''

****

And when the photos from the wedding came, it wasn't his height that was a problem, but the fact that he had blinked. But Enjolras wasn't angry. Instead he just smiled and kissed Grantaire's cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [ tumblr ](https://unofficial-garrett-hawke.tumblr.com) !


End file.
